Welcome to the second reel
Characters: The Doctor & Remilia Scarlet
Open/Closed: CLOSED
Rating: PG-13 for blood rain
Date: Present
Location: Starts with the Doctor arriving in Wonderland on the beach, the beginning of the rain and then him approaching the village.
The doors to the TARDIS felt heavy, heavier than they'd felt in a long time. In a way, he looked forward to a new distraction, something somewhere, anywhere away from the here and now.
And in another way he got his wish, and the Doctor found himself staring unfamiliarly down at something he regularly paid little mind -- the floor of his ship. He lifted a shoe half disgusted, half curious, out of the moist sand beneath him. He was certain he didn't remember a beach being here. Was this even the TARDIS? Maybe it was a just a regular ol' police box. With sand.
To make perfectly sure he turned his eyes from the sand towards what should have been a tangled hodgepodge of surface controls and coral, and instead found himself on the edge of a vast ocean. The waves washed mildly and drifted towards him slowly, touching the tips of his black canvas trainers. His expression changed now, from rising confusion to spiked bewilderment. He barely began mouthing what his mind was turning out, when a wave toppled in that extra inch and soaked through the top of his dominate shoe.
He hopped quickly up on one foot and stumbling planted his other directly into the water, "Aww, come on!" he whined slightly, as if the waves would be sympathetic to his matching set of cold toes. Distracted mid-hop by the severity of the situation, he grounded himself down on both feet and spun around to where the TARDIS walls should have been surrounding him.
Nothing. Just sand and ocean.
The Doctor ruffled through his hair, holding it barely as a small black and blue bird nudged closer to him. He stepped near it, and squinted curiously to analyse the newcomer better. Fully confident in the results of his brief inquiry, he smiled at his discovery, "Are you a Magpie, then?"
The bird froze motionless before finally titling its head towards the man's cheery tone.
"You are a Magpie," he loosened the grip on his hair and dropped his shoulders to his side, nodding to himself with satisfaction of his self-validated bird ID, "since when are White Throated Magpies found at the beach?" He paused for a moment, and eyed the bird suspiciously and rocked back on his heels, "since when am I found at the beach? Since when does the TARDIS turn into a beach? Since when do --"
The bird opened its beak wide as if to answer and instead dropped a small rolled up paper lazily onto the wet sand.
He stared down at it, smile fading, " -- Magpies deliver messages?"
The Doctor bent down over the sand and retrieved the tiny strip of paper, "Hope you brought my fortune -- although I'd much prefer the cookie," he gave the bird a look and reached into his dinner jacket's inner pocket quickly producing a pair of spectacles.
The bird watched disinterested as he fumbled to unravel the tiny corners of the paper roll.
He glimpsed down at his feathered friend and unrolled the note, nodding approvingly at it, "Clever bird. Those cookies are sorta rubbish. Bet you'd like them though. A bit better than eating you know...." he swallowed a little at the illogical word he knew was coming, "...rubbish."
The bird ruffled its feathers and as another wave gently swept in.
The Doctor contemplated the paper, read it several times both backwards, and forwards. Even tried anagrams, and arranging the first letter of each word to spell a new word. With all possibilities thoroughly exhausted, he was still at a loss as to what precisely, 'Welcome to Wonderland' meant. But he intended to find out.
Turning his back from the ocean, The Doctor tucked the message in a pocket of his pants and set out. A little black and blue bird hopping its way behind him. He walked for some time, the sand getting dryer and thicker with every step and a tiny bird moving closer in his footprints. The Doctor paused mid-step and turned deliberately towards his feathered stalker, "Stop following me!" he pointed a finger down, and waved it sternly, "you're a bird -- at least as far as I can tell -- shouldn't you be flying? Hmmm?" he raised his eyebrows, dropping his hand down to his side. The bird spreading its wings obediently and taking to the sky.
The Doctor nodded at its apparent compliance, though visibly rejected at the swiftest for which it obeyed, "Yeah, that's right, bird! Good thing -- "
The sky opened up and dark clouds rolled through quickly eclipsing the bright beachy sun. The Doctor turned his head to the sky, narrowing his eyes in the confusion that this just didn't feel right. He moved quicker now through the tall grassy intermediate as a heavy warm rain began to fall. Instinctively, he broke into a short run that halted when the water on his skin began feeling heavy and feverish.
The Doctor stared down at his hand, straining to see clearer in the newly darkened day. Little dots speckled his palm and ran red tributaries down to the sandy sediment.
"This isn't rain. It's blood," the Doctor stared panicked through the tall dune grass and in the distance barely made out the faint outline of a village.
(http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/59050.html)
Open/Closed: CLOSED
Rating: PG-13 for blood rain
Date: Present
Location: Starts with the Doctor arriving in Wonderland on the beach, the beginning of the rain and then him approaching the village.
The doors to the TARDIS felt heavy, heavier than they'd felt in a long time. In a way, he looked forward to a new distraction, something somewhere, anywhere away from the here and now.
And in another way he got his wish, and the Doctor found himself staring unfamiliarly down at something he regularly paid little mind -- the floor of his ship. He lifted a shoe half disgusted, half curious, out of the moist sand beneath him. He was certain he didn't remember a beach being here. Was this even the TARDIS? Maybe it was a just a regular ol' police box. With sand.
To make perfectly sure he turned his eyes from the sand towards what should have been a tangled hodgepodge of surface controls and coral, and instead found himself on the edge of a vast ocean. The waves washed mildly and drifted towards him slowly, touching the tips of his black canvas trainers. His expression changed now, from rising confusion to spiked bewilderment. He barely began mouthing what his mind was turning out, when a wave toppled in that extra inch and soaked through the top of his dominate shoe.
He hopped quickly up on one foot and stumbling planted his other directly into the water, "Aww, come on!" he whined slightly, as if the waves would be sympathetic to his matching set of cold toes. Distracted mid-hop by the severity of the situation, he grounded himself down on both feet and spun around to where the TARDIS walls should have been surrounding him.
Nothing. Just sand and ocean.
The Doctor ruffled through his hair, holding it barely as a small black and blue bird nudged closer to him. He stepped near it, and squinted curiously to analyse the newcomer better. Fully confident in the results of his brief inquiry, he smiled at his discovery, "Are you a Magpie, then?"
The bird froze motionless before finally titling its head towards the man's cheery tone.
"You are a Magpie," he loosened the grip on his hair and dropped his shoulders to his side, nodding to himself with satisfaction of his self-validated bird ID, "since when are White Throated Magpies found at the beach?" He paused for a moment, and eyed the bird suspiciously and rocked back on his heels, "since when am I found at the beach? Since when does the TARDIS turn into a beach? Since when do --"
The bird opened its beak wide as if to answer and instead dropped a small rolled up paper lazily onto the wet sand.
He stared down at it, smile fading, " -- Magpies deliver messages?"
The Doctor bent down over the sand and retrieved the tiny strip of paper, "Hope you brought my fortune -- although I'd much prefer the cookie," he gave the bird a look and reached into his dinner jacket's inner pocket quickly producing a pair of spectacles.
The bird watched disinterested as he fumbled to unravel the tiny corners of the paper roll.
He glimpsed down at his feathered friend and unrolled the note, nodding approvingly at it, "Clever bird. Those cookies are sorta rubbish. Bet you'd like them though. A bit better than eating you know...." he swallowed a little at the illogical word he knew was coming, "...rubbish."
The bird ruffled its feathers and as another wave gently swept in.
The Doctor contemplated the paper, read it several times both backwards, and forwards. Even tried anagrams, and arranging the first letter of each word to spell a new word. With all possibilities thoroughly exhausted, he was still at a loss as to what precisely, 'Welcome to Wonderland' meant. But he intended to find out.
Turning his back from the ocean, The Doctor tucked the message in a pocket of his pants and set out. A little black and blue bird hopping its way behind him. He walked for some time, the sand getting dryer and thicker with every step and a tiny bird moving closer in his footprints. The Doctor paused mid-step and turned deliberately towards his feathered stalker, "Stop following me!" he pointed a finger down, and waved it sternly, "you're a bird -- at least as far as I can tell -- shouldn't you be flying? Hmmm?" he raised his eyebrows, dropping his hand down to his side. The bird spreading its wings obediently and taking to the sky.
The Doctor nodded at its apparent compliance, though visibly rejected at the swiftest for which it obeyed, "Yeah, that's right, bird! Good thing -- "
The sky opened up and dark clouds rolled through quickly eclipsing the bright beachy sun. The Doctor turned his head to the sky, narrowing his eyes in the confusion that this just didn't feel right. He moved quicker now through the tall grassy intermediate as a heavy warm rain began to fall. Instinctively, he broke into a short run that halted when the water on his skin began feeling heavy and feverish.
The Doctor stared down at his hand, straining to see clearer in the newly darkened day. Little dots speckled his palm and ran red tributaries down to the sandy sediment.
"This isn't rain. It's blood," the Doctor stared panicked through the tall dune grass and in the distance barely made out the faint outline of a village.
(http://community.livejournal.com/nonevidence/59050.html)